61st Hunger Games: High Rise
by Mindlesshumor
Summary: 18 year old Jules Weber from District 3 is reaped into the games, but so is her best friend. Will she be able to get through the grueling games and when will the inevitable betrayal of her friend become a factor? This is a High Rise; who goes over the edge?


Chapter one: Inside Out

**A/N This is my first fanfiction ever, so if you guys want to give me a lot of feedback, and suggestions, just shoot me a message :D**

Morning light trickled in through the shutters of my tiny studio apartment. Today was a monumental day. Today was the day where all of my teenage angst would end; the day where I would no longer cower under my quilts with paroxysms of terror of the seemingly definite outcome that I would be reaped into those vicious games; the last day of my fear. I am soon to be free of the bone-chilling burden I've carried my entire adolescence. District 3 was located in Northern East Panem, in an area once called: The City of Lights and Dreams. The odds are in my favor. My name is Jules Weber; I am 18 and today shall be my last Reaping Day.

I woke out of bed from the sudden thoughts that splurged my conscious and went to take a bath, when I heard the pounding on my door that could be none other than my best friend Sammy. Every year since our first reaping, we get ready at my house and try to pretend that it's a regular day in our towering district. I went to unlock the bolt and allow him access into my living area.

"Honestly you'd think that this being our last Reaping Day would have a more profound effect on my life right? Wrong. I slept like a baby the entire night through. Even had a nice heaping breakfast of rice, and I actually enjoyed it. And then, you would never believe this, but Hot Guy from upstairs winked at me! As in one eyelid closing while his mouth gives you that 'I love your existence' smirk. The last 10 hours have been fantastic!" That was Sammy for you; bursting into a room and speaking faster than an electric current. Sammy shot a grin even brighter than his massive blue eyes that contrasted his already warm caramel colored skin.

Sammy was a bit dramatic. Unlike the rest of the lovely citizens of District 3 who would normally venture into fields of engineering and research, he was a street performer. His profession was highly unusual but I suspect we all need some form of existence outside of the lifeless, calculating technology we create.

"Wouldn't you experiencing such an awesome sleep, and having your existence loved by Hot Guy, whose name you don't actually know, be an outcome of our last Reaping Day effects?" I countered, totally logical right? Sammy gave me a deep sigh and continued, "Whatever Jules, I'm just saying; I thought I'd be tossing and turning all last night. I feel slightly invigorated, like I can take on the world!" He exclaims while launching from his position and landing effortlessly on my bed; his dark mane of curly hair following suit of their owner.

"You can totally take down every tribute with your back hand springs and juggling!" I quipped, every word from my mouth heavily laced with sarcasm. Sometimes I needed to keep Sammy humble, aware of his limits. Obviously it never worked due to the fact that my pillow, thrown from his hand, connected with my head four seconds later disheveling my blonde hair more than it already was. I threw him my version of an intimidating look and continued on towards my bathroom to wash up and get dressed. As I closed the door I heard something about "wearing my mother's blue blouse."

Half an hour later, we were well on our way towards the district square set in the center of the district, surrounded by the tall looming buildings. In school we learn that before Panem, thousands upon thousands of people would stand here during the passing of a new year and celebrate. It seems only fitting that we stand here and 'celebrate' the probable passing of two children. No matter what, it would all be over soon. No more worries, no family to look after, I being the youngest, no more terror, only me and the familiar setting of my work bench. Sammy and I separated to our respective areas and waited for the ceremony to begin. A man, also known as Carmen Deveraux our district escort, stepped up to the microphone. On stage were our Mayor, Mr. Sol Murphy, and our two previous victors, Ajax and Savvy both sporting stoic faces. I was too young to witness either of their games, but there was a rumor that Ajax killed 6 of the remaining tributes by slicing their heads off in their sleep.

"Welcome welcome," Carmen began, "The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman with the honor of representing District 3 in the 61st Annual Hunger Games!" his face the perfect mask of excitement and false enthusiasm. He said the same thing every year; all the district escorts must have all been prepared with the same opening.

"As per usual we'll start with our lovely women" Carmen sustained. I watched as he paced toward the large clear bowl full of every girls name in the district. I had no worries as my name was only in there seven times. My family strived to survive without tesserae. Carmen pulled a single slip from the bowl. I found Sammy's face in the crowd and he gave me a playful wink, making me smile expressively. So caught in the moment of my friend's antics I didn't hear the announcement of "Jules Weber!" I continued to smile at Brandon, who was as oblivious as I was, until the silence became deafeningly loud and his face faltered. I looked up and met thousands of pairs of eyes locked on my blue ones and an ominous path cleared for me to walk the stage. I have been reaped.

_That's not possible though! _

_I'm eighteen! _

_This was supposed to be the start to an anxiety free life, not a painfully humiliating death! _

_The odds were in my favor!_

_What could have gone wrong?_

All of this went through my head within a matter of the few seconds that passed. My body remained in place paralyzed with fear and incredulous thoughts. The peacekeepers aggressively escorted me to the stage, and if they hadn't I don't think I would have ever moved. My entire existence glued to the spot where the capitol told me they were taking away my life. As I approached the stage I glanced at Savvy shaking her head; pity evident on her face.

I completely lost focus of everything that wasn't fundamental and was only barely aware of the unsurprising absence of volunteers for my place. Funny enough, that was not the moment that unnerved every fiber of my being. What made me start to cry -which in quickly became sobs- and decide that life was too much to venture on with was one name being called. "Samson Riggins!"

I collapsed as my body began filling with wracking sobs. My best friend, life line, support system, and my ethereal other half, was being pitted against 23 other children for his life; including myself.

Sammy held himself together more than I could ever have attempted. He was a performer, a caricature, one that could portray faces that highly opposed his actual feelings. As he got on the staged platform, he smiled and waved to the audience, and that's when I saw it; the small crack. It was so slight that if you weren't standing 2 feet from him, you would have never noticed it. But I saw the small clench of his jaw and thought about how hard he must be trying to obtain this façade while I publicly cried and on National television. Suddenly his breakfast of rice, his ever-peaceful sleep, even his recognition from Hot Guy, was meaningless. He was a tribute. I was a tribute. We were going in this together, but both of us would not come out, unless it was in small wooden box.

I held on to a small sliver of hope that maybe someone; anyone would volunteer and take his place because of how many friends Sammy had. But of course, my hope was shattered along with my sanity.

"Well come on then, shake hands" said Carmen in his thick capitol accent. I faced Brandon and I hugged him so fiercely one would have thought I was attempting to suffocate him and eliminate a tribute right there. I felt his thin arms wrap around my waist and I heard a sob, a small one barely recognized by my own ears.

I was separated from Brandon and ushered into the Justice Building. I stood in the common elevator found in most official skyscrapers that took me to the top of the building. I waited in a room with a large floor to ceiling window that over looked the mass of people slowly milling back to their apartments and living quarters. Today was definitely a big day.

Time must have ceased to exist or at least it must have been slowed down, because every second felt like a minute, and every minute felt like an hour in solitude. Plagued by my own thoughts of my death; do I eat a poisoned berry? Do I die from dehydration? Do I make it out of the blood bath? Am I chased by my opponents and speared from afar? Do I get trapped in a snare and slowly tortured to make an example of? But then the door opens.

The twins, my two older brothers, walk in with my mom and my dad. I spring up from my sitting area and I race into their embracing arms. And for more than once that day; I cried. "Oh Jules," my mother starts "I'm so sorry. You only had one more year, and that was snatched! I'm going to miss your beautiful face, my baby."

My mother's obvious lack of confidence in me was only slightly painful because I knew she was being rational. But it was nothing compared to what my father said.

"Darling, go to the capitol and have fun." He whispered in that soft childlike voice he used when he was found in awkward situations, "Don't pass up any opportunity to have fun. When you get into the arena, step off the plate. End your life on your own terms. Die for yourself and not for others." I had to look up to his face to see if he was actually being serious. He couldn't be serious. His faith in my return home was so miniscule that he thought I should just have fun and end it?

I pulled back incredulously, my face displaying the inner anger and hurt that I felt inside myself. "I will not under any circumstances kill myself" my once weak voiced filled with a strong steady anger, "I will go into that arena and I will fight, regardless of your psychotic suggestion. Don't romanticize suicide and turn it into this noble and self respecting act! Ending it on my own terms is synonymous to giving up and I don't ever give up."

My dad gave me a sad smile and said "Of course you don't baby. You're a fighter" as he kissed my head. Before my brothers could say more than I love you, the peace keepers came and escorted them out of the room. And again I was locked in solitude.

My next visitors should have shocked me considering they were the parents of my opponent, but considering their home has been my second since I was a toddler I was more relieved than anything.

They came and hugged me tightly engulfing my body with the warmth of caring and love. "Listen Jules," Mrs. Riggins asserted. Her blue eyes bore deep into mine. She was striking really; her platinum blonde hair and pale skin and slim physique made her look extremely regal. Her husband's beautiful was as dramatic and evident as hers with his ebony skin and piercing hazel eyes. I could see where Sammy acquired those genes that I secretly envied him for. "You and Samson need to stick together. Even until the end, and if it does come down to you two, we will not hold any of your actions against you."

I wasn't sure if her implication comforted me or made my situation that much more real. They both embraced me into another hug as I said thank you. The peace keepers came back in to escort them out.

Another twenty minutes and I was out of the Justice building and boarding a train to take me to my potential final days to living.

As I got to my cabin I changed my clothes into something comfortable and I went straight to my bed hoping that the sheets could banish the dark thoughts and feelings that crept up over me. As I lay there humming to myself I heard my door open and there was Sammy. Looking as helpless as I felt; shifting on his toes, tears filling his gemlike eyes. With a silent acknowledgment he clambered up on my bed and joined me under the covers. We hugged each other so tightly and for the last of many times that day; we cried; wracking sobs and shivers that violently shook both our bodies.

I thought back to when we were five and we had our first class together. I thought back to when we slept over each other's houses every weekend. I thought back to when we finished our last year of schooling and moved out of our parent's complex. I thought back to when I got that job as an engineer and his decision to entertain. I thought about now, as we both hugged each other, how my best friend and I could find ourselves in a situation like this. I guess we were the lucky ones that became really unlucky. We learn that the human body is 65% water, at this point we weren't crying, but trying to turn ourselves inside out.


End file.
